Pulp Fiction, 1864 · page 23 of 52
The Secret Shot; Or, The Rivals Of Misty Mount — page 23: what you’re looking at
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A SKELETON AT THE FEAST. was scoured, likewise, but with no better success; and, finally, late in the night, Cleaveland reluctantly gave the order to have done. “Well,-I expected nothing more, my dear colonel,” said old Godfrey Gwin, when Cleayeland was standing despondently. in the drawing-room of Misty Mount. ‘“ You sce this is a wide valley; there are many clumps and thickets in it; and the neigh- boring mountains are honeycombed with caves. You have done your duty. Trust to luck, and another time.” CHAPTER*VL The Mountain Cavern. “The birds of the ‘alr shall leave their nests; the beasts shall seek the mountains; and in the caverns of the earth the hunted man shall make his dismal abode." Tue cavern to which Wandalo led Heart- stead Gleason was situated nearly half-way up the rock side of Misty Mountain, and entirely invisible from below, so bold and huge was the rocky ledge that jutted over the narrow bridle-path which wound around the mountain but a few fect below the mouth of the cave. The entrance was, indeed, hardly discernible from a higher’stand-point, as it was quite narrow, and thickly over- grown with briers and other underbrush, though the cavern itself broadened and hightened extensively a few paces from its mouth. It then ran deep into the breast of the mountain, like a long, dark, winding corridor, when, at a distance of probably four hundred feet from the outer world, the cayern suddenly made an end in a splendid, lofty chamber, which, when illuminated with torches, was rendered wonderfully lustrous by the ‘reflection from the glittering spars and crystals which composed its sides, and hung in long stalactites from the arching roof. Several nights after the events of the last chapter, this great natural temple in the heart of the mountain, as it might be called, was partially illuminated by several torches; and a party of Tories, mostly young men of the neighborhood, were in council there- in, with Heartstead Gleason at their head. A rude table was placed in the center of the apartment, around which these worthies |. Were sitting» In fact, it was more like a Carouse than a council. The board was pretty liberally supplied with brandy and 21 wines, and a huge dish of fruits temptingly crowned the middle, But there was one who sat at the board, and who drank deeply too, whose features were lined with the furrows of mental an- guish. This was young Gleason. Occa- sionally he would join in the laugh of his comrades, but in a crazy, feverish way, which was @ mockery to honest merriment. And then, again, he would rest his head upon his hand, with downcast eyes, as if his thoughts were far away, and in a gloom- ier sphere. “ Come, Heartstead,” at length said Will Fashdon, a dashing young Tory, with a sword at his side and the red uniform of king George on his back, “are you always to be a skeleton at the feast? Confound it, man, you look the least like an expectant bridegroom of any man I ever saw !” “As I am very far from being an expect- ant bridegroom, my appearance, then, will not cause me the slightest uneasiness,” re- turned Gleason, with a dreary smile. “ What are we going to carry the girl off for, pray tell me, then ?” asked Fashdon. “ Do you suppose she will love me, after I have carried her off, any readier than be- fore ?” said the young man, bitterly. “The devil take the difference,’ chimed in Michael Field, an Irish Tory from fur- ther down the yalley. “It’s not ivery mon that can nab a wife without the throuble- some ceremony of paternal consint.” This congratulatory rally produced a great deal of merriment; but Gleason only frowned, and relapsed into his melancholy reserve. “Tet me see; what was the time agreed upon ?” asked Fashion. “Next Winsday night, you loon,” said the Irishman. “ Will you niver git done wid stuffin’ that muddy head of yourn with brandy ?” “It wasn’t Wednesday, but Thursday,” cried another. . “Hal ha! Mike’s as drunk as a bed- bug!” laughed the rest. “T protist it was Winsday,” said Field, getting angry. It was left to Heartstead, but he could remember nothing. : “ Call in Judith,” said some one. dalo! Wandalo!’ The savage appeared at the entrance. “ Call Judith adi “ She can come without calling,” said the quadroon, and the next instant she stood in their midst. “ Wan- (©) Comichboo